


Cleaning the Slate

by Fierceawakening



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Spark Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-07 13:09:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fierceawakening/pseuds/Fierceawakening
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes even Megatron and Starscream go too far. This is what happens when Megatron realizes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cleaning the Slate

**Author's Note:**

> Way back when I first got into fandom, I saw the term "hurt/comfort" and misunderstood it. I thought it was "Characters A and B do a very intense, scary BDSM scene that leaves B emotionally and/or physically ragged. Then A carefully nurses B back to emotional and/or physical health."
> 
> Basically, I thought it was an [aftercare](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aftercare_%28BDSM%29) fetish.
> 
> Which I personally like better than what it turned out to actually be. I was thinking about that after reading some h/c. An insistent bunny kept meeping curiously at me, wondering how Megatron would do his own twisted, not at all touchy-feely version of aftercare. I had a lot of fun thinking about what a Decepticon version of that would look like, especially one that fits into the dynamic between these two.

Starscream twitched, his inert frame stirred to sudden life by the blow, and then fell still again. His optics flared briefly, but he didn't even turn his head to glower at the mech who'd affronted him so.

Megatron frowned, the shockstick still sparking in his hand. How long had they been at this? He checked his internal chronometer, murmuring in surprise at the readout.

He looked over at Starscream, who hung where Megatron had bound him, his wings flicking far more slowly than they should have been. The Seeker's mangled frame was spattered with energon and hydraulic fluid. The canopy usually covering his cockpit hung at a precarious angle, wrenched aside by Megatron's own hands. The spark chamber in the center of the Seeker's chest was still open, the white orb within it pulsing with energy as Megatron stepped closer.

That was a good sign. For all the damage Megatron had done to his frame, the tendrils of energy crackling through Starscream's spark were bright and numerous.

Megatron could feel the chestplates covering his own spark heating as he watched its dance. Starscream was beautiful like this, his defenses torn away and tossed aside like so much mangled metal.

For a brief moment he considered opening his chestplates and taking Starscream again, just like this, pushing him until that last bit of stored energy was all but gone. Starscream belonged to him, after all, and he could do what he liked. And he'd learned long vorns ago what it meant when the Seeker's spark spun like that.

Frowning, he shook his head. Yes, he could use Starscream again, and yes, the Seeker would survive it. But it would take far more time than they had for him to recover, if Megatron wanted to push Starscream's spark itself to the limits of what it could hold. As pleasant as disciplining his Second could be, the Decepticons had a war to win.

He reached out with his other arm and slid his fingers lightly over a dented wing. Starscream shivered, his mouthplates twisting into a lazy grin.

"You're done," Megatron said, laying the shockstick down and looking at the twisted metal surrounding the Seeker's open chest.

With a supreme effort, the Seeker raised his head. "Not done," he said, his voice a thin, metallic squeal. His mouthplates twisted into a snarl.

"Is that so?" Megatron reached out for Starscream's wings and firmly pulled down. Starscream thrashed feebly and gave a thin squeak of distress that ended in a burst of static.

"Doesn't - doesn't matter how damaged I am," he said when he could speak again. "I can take anything you throw at me, you worthless pile of rusting scra - !"

Megatron murmured, amused, as the Seeker's voice completely gave out.

He pressed a dark fingertip to Starscream's bonds. They opened, and the Seeker fell heavily to the floor. Panting, he twisted into a half-crouch and glared up at Megatron.

"You're going to the medbay," Megatron rasped, unimpressed.

The Seeker held his leader's gaze a moment longer, then let his head sink again. "Fine." His thrusters clicked against the metal of the floor as he forced himself upright, slipped, and barely saved himself.

"Don't bother with that," Megatron smirked, his arms reaching out and wrapping around his Second. For a moment, Starscream leaned against him, red optics flickering as he sagged in Megatron's arms.

Megatron chuckled, scooping Starscream up, knowing full well the response his next words would earn. "I am going to carry you."

Blue fists rained a flurry of blows on any part of Megatron they could reach as the Seeker twisted violently in his grasp. "You will not - !" he stammered, his vocalizer giving out again. "Of all the indignities - !" Slender blue fingers dug deep into the plating of Megatron's forearm. "Put me down!"

Feeling Starscream writhe against him, Megatron's spark surged with the temptation to do exactly that - to throw the Seeker to the floor, open his chest plates, and slam the energy seething through his spark into Starscream's own, until Starscream's overtaxed systems could hold nothing more and he fell offline or overloaded or both at once.

 _But that's exactly what he wants_ , Megatron realized as pain flared through the cuts his Second's fingers were gouging in his arms.

 _And therefore, he won't get it._ Wrenching his optics away from the sight of Starscream's pulsing spark, he forced himself to stare straight ahead as he walked.

Starscream thrashed again, but whether from exhaustion or simply from his leader's ever-tightening grip, he finally twitched his wings one last time and was still, curled in Megatron's arms.

Megatron rumbled his approval. It felt good holding Starscream like this, now that he'd finally quieted down. Starscream murmured something in response, a curse or a moan or something else entirely, and then lowered his head, his optics dimming as several of his systems powered down. _Do you trust me that much,_ Megatron wondered, looking down at him again, _or are you simply that damaged?_

He strode into the medbay, still not looking at anyone, and dropped Starscream roughly on one of the berths. Jolted out of idling, the Seeker scrambled to sit up and glower at Megatron, who studiously ignored him.

"Attend to this," Megatron said to the knot of Constructicons that was already forming around the berth.

"Of course, my lord," said Hook, leaning over Starscream and frowning as he studied the damage.

"Wonder what the damn fool did this time," Bonecrusher put in, his engine revving in irritation.

Scrapper shot him a look. Mixmaster ignored them both, opened a cupboard, and rifled through it for instruments and components. Finding them, he transformed, tossing the components into his mixer with a cackle that made Hook look up, scoff, and turn back to his work again.

Scavenger looked from Scrapper to Megatron to Starscream's mangled chest. He mumbled something about finding a spare cockpit canopy and hastened to the other side of the room. Long Haul glowered and trundled off after Scavenger.

Megatron withdrew to a dark corner and watched the proceedings. He couldn't see much through the bustling Constructicon bodies leaning over Starscream. He could order them to step aside, of course, and give him a better view of their work. But if he did, he could no longer pretend that his main concern was the success of the next mission. There were some things that everyone knew, but that were better left unsaid.

Besides, he hadn't seen Starscream move, or heard even the faintest screech of protest. That could only mean that the damage was extensive enough for Hook to take Starscream offline. And if Starscream wasn't conscious, there wasn't all that much to see anyway.

That disappointed Megatron as well. It was selfish of him, perhaps, to be eager for more of Starscream's pain. Still, Megatron knew from long experience that the Seeker was beautiful in the midst of being rebuilt. He smiled, remembering.

First came howls of agony, screeching protests that faded into promises when he realized that resistance wouldn't help. Then came movement, Starscream twitching and writhing and clicking his wings as control returned and he howled his eagerness to leave. He was magnificent that way, all roil and seethe and blind emotion.

Megatron's spark whirled again, thinking of it. But all he could see right now were glimpses of Starscream's frame between their huddled bodies and the occasional bright light of sparks as they welded. And Starscream was still as a dead thing, and would be until they remade him.

But that, in turn, had its own appeal. As much as he liked seeing his marks on Starscream's frame, there was something to be said for a clean slate. The scrapes on Megatron's arm twinged with sudden pain and he peered down at them, a grin spreading over his faceplates again. When Starscream awoke he would be pristine. Ready, if Megatron chose, for everything to begin again.

He had promised Starscream, thousands of vorns ago, that together they would watch worlds burn. Starscream would arise from this gleaming and perfect, ready to fall like a whirlwind on anything in his way.

He nodded to Scavenger, who was setting the new cockpit canopy into place. Still smirking, he watched the Constructicon tremble, unnerved that his leader was staring at him. Then he heard the faint click as Hook pressed a button and power surged through Starscream's systems again with a bright flare of light and a crackle of electricity.

Starscream sat up, all traces of his earlier sluggishness gone. His wings twitched as he raised his arm and pointed a fully charged null ray at the mechs gathered around him. The Constructicons did not react, save another faint shudder from Scavenger. They'd seen this happen too many times.

Starscream's optics flickered red as they focused on the Constructicons gathered around him. "Oh, it's just you," he scoffed, lowering his arm as two of them stepped aside.

Then he saw Megatron.

His wings fluttered again, glistening as the light played on their now-immaculate surface. He shrieked, a wordless cry of surprise and agitation.

The tyrant smiled. "Come with me," he said.


End file.
